


Sleepy, Soft

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 16:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7445227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock loves sharing a bed with John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepy, Soft

There’s tea in the pot, dying embers glowing in the fireplace, and comfortable, familiar silence in the living room of 221B. Its two residents occupy their respective armchairs, John tapping at the keys of his laptop, Sherlock nose-deep in a book about bees. Pyjamas have long since been donned and the hours drizzle away like honey, slow and savoured, sweet. 

“John?” Sherlock says questioningly and quietly, out of the blue. He doesn’t look up from his page, but he’s no longer reading the words upon it. 

“Mm?” John hums in reply, still typing away.

The detective wiggles his bare toes against the carpet thoughtfully, then slides a bookmark primly between the pages and closes his book. The bees will wait. He sets it down, holds his hands in his lap, and clears his throat. 

“Can we…um,” he begins, sounding bashful, cheeks tinged pink.

At this, John finally stills his fingers against his keyboard and lifts his gaze. “Can we what?” He asks softly, already closing the lid of his computer. He too sets his pass-time aside, waiting for his best friend to answer. 

Sherlock tries again. “Can we go to bed?” He avoids John’s eyes, picking at an invisible thread on his trousers instead. 

John’s chest tightens as a warm smile overtakes his face. “’Course we can, love,” he says. “Tired already?” The clock on the mantle only reads 9:04 PM. 

“Mm, no. Not especially. I just like being in bed with you,” Sherlock answers, his lips making their ‘v’ shaped smile reserved only for John (and maybe dogs, and also bees). 

“Soft sod,” John murmurs affectionately, standing from his chair. He picks up the tea tray and nods towards Sherlock’s - no, _their_  - bedroom, and Sherlock takes the hint to go ahead first with John following behind. 

They climb into their preferred sides of the bed, sitting upright with a mug of tea each and the blankets pulled up over their laps. Sherlock rests his head on John’s shoulder even though it hurts his neck a little to crane it down. John rests his free hand on Sherlock’s thigh, rubbing small, soothing circles onto soft cotton.

“I love you,” Sherlock says, voice rumbling deeply. 

John beams and presses a kiss to Sherlock’s temple. “I love you too.”

When their tea becomes warmth in their bellies, Sherlock and John settle down further into bed, the golden light of their lamps highlighting each other’s features beautifully. They’re peaceful.

The detective lets out a yawn. John gives him a tired, lopsided smile and raises a hand, smoothing back Sherlock’s curls. 

“I thought you weren’t tired?” John teases lovingly.

Sherlock replies with a kiss, sleepy and soft, then shuts off his lamp and curls himself around his partner. A leg shoved between John’s two, an arm thrown across John’s stomach, head firmly fixed on John’s chest, and John is more than happy with this armful of Sherlock, cuddling him close and shutting off his own lamp to plunge them both into cosy darkness.

The lack of light and their bodies intertwined drags both pairs of eyelids down, heavy and happy, until the room is filled with quiet snores. 


End file.
